


Nothing Tastes the Same

by PaperAnn



Series: PaperAnn's Kink Bingo 2017 Works [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Canon Compliant, Confessions, Dean makes it better, Episode: s07e06 Slash Fiction, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Jealous Sam Winchester, M/M, POV Alternating, Possessive Sam Winchester, Season/Series 07, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-16 07:43:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12338373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn
Summary: Everything is wrong and Sam isn’t sure they can fix it this time.  With the news flashing their mugshots for a killing spree, hallucinations of Lucifer telling him this worldisn’treal, and the stupid secret he’s been keeping since forever—something’s gotta give.  He’ll leave it in his brother’s hands.Sam will finally come out with it and if Dean accepts him, they can muscle through.  Together.  If not?  This may be the end of his road.





	Nothing Tastes the Same

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Kink Bingo 2017  
> Square Filled: Wincest
> 
> Huge thank you to my baby [Fishie](https://whataboutthefish.tumblr.com/) for coming in clutch and helping me out with my Wincest fills, even though it isn't her ship! I love you, my soulmate!
> 
> **Ann's Notes:** I mentioned there are going to be some ships in this series that aren't my norm/my lovely awesome readers may not expect from me. If you don't particularly like it, please just skip over it and wait for the next one :) There's plenty of smut to go around! 
> 
> On another note, I'm quite excited to be writing a lot of new and different ships for this challenge! I've got a couple more Wincest in the queue and a handful of rare pair stuff too! We've got all the fics coming by the end of the month—whoohoo! xoxo

It had been a long time, a damn long time, since Dean had seen Sam this bad.

He’d go for walks to clear his head at night because they no longer had the luxury of showing their faces in public, since every channel painted them up as the most wanted men out there.  As long as he kept his nose to the ground and looked inconspicuous, Dean would let him.  Maybe it was because of the claustrophobia of the motel rooms that Dean knew his little brother needed to get some air.

Sam had…well, he’d _always_ had problems.  Whether it was the psychic thing, the addiction, putting his trust with the wrong people and—

Right now, it was the demons in his head.

Those, Dean couldn’t help him with, no matter how hard he tried.  So he let Sam try to remedy them himself, however he thought he could.

While Sam roamed, Dean drank.  They were so damn dysfunctional, there was nothing they could do about it besides this, not when they were on the lam.

The more they talked about their feelings, the more the resentment, the loathing, the judgment came out.  Maybe it was better to say nothing at all?  There was no doubt, not even a lick of hesitation when it came to knowing they loved each other.  Over-dependently-so.  Yet everything that was left in the wake of this love was equal parts destruction and devastation.

Yeah.  Sam was having a bad time, but the more Dean thought about it…maybe he was, too.

Dean was surprised when the door swung back open, as he’d usually be finished with the fifth he was working on by the time Sam’s walk would be over.  Or, he’d be passed out...

Except, his brother was charging through the doorway, pushing away the black hoodie that concealed his face with an odd neutral expression set into his features.  And he wasn’t stopping.

Dean hit mute on the TV from where he was hunched over with the bottle in his hand and tilted his head to the side, asking, “Hey, you okay, Sammy?”  He sat up straighter with a concerned, “Did you get spotted?”

“No.”

Sam forcefully knocked the bottle out of Dean’s hand and sent it flying from his grasp, to where it shattered on the floor.  While his jaw was dropped and poised to shout, Sam was already in his lap, grabbing a fistful of hair to haul their lips together.

Dean’s entire body may have froze from the assault, but his admonishment was eons away—the rough, fierce lips prying at his, well…he couldn’t do anything but kiss him back.  His hands were itching to reach out, his fingers twitching, but Dean wasn’t really sure _what_ was happening.  Only the fact that his little brother was on top of him and kissing him hard enough to bruise.

He knew damn well he couldn’t sit here idly, but which way did he play this?

It felt good, _too good_ , and maybe he _had_ thought about it before…

But thinking and acting on it were two different things!

Finally, Dean’s hands rose to the front of Sam’s zip-up—

That’s when he pulled away.  Heaving, breathless, rosy cheeked and stunning.  Except, the words he blurted were anything but.

“D-Dean, I…he’s in my head, keeps telling me that I’m in Hell.  If I’m,” Sam shuddered out a breath, ripping off the hoodie and his shirt with it, causing Dean’s eyes to double, “if I’m already there I want to earn it.  Or make the voices stop, I—”

The desperation in his tone was too much for Dean to bear and everything fell to the wayside.  His protective instincts kicked in, because this wasn’t just another problem to deal with, Sam was falling apart in front of him.

“Hey, hey,” Dean soothed, finally moving of his own volition and cupping Sam’s cheeks.  He cradled Sam’s face until he looked into his eyes, and the second Dean had Sam’s focus he said, “I’ll take care of you, Sammy.  I’ll always take care of you.  Tell me how to help, tell me what you need, okay?”

A fleeting moment of disbelief flickered before something hungry set in, a rumble in Sam’s chest responding, “Need _you_.”  Then, he was moving again.

Dean saw it coming, but that didn’t mean he was prepared.  Oh, no.

Sam raised on his haunches, grabbed Dean’s waist to haul him downward on the bed until he was laying flat.  He moved like time was running out, like he was racing to meet some kind of countdown.  Dean felt more and more chilled from the shoddy motel heater by the minute, his clothes being torn away.  It looked like Sam was doing a damn good job, meeting whatever bullshit deadline he was aiming for—

“Shit,” Dean blurted out, completely naked and squirming on top of the scratchy, dirty comforter, “Are you, uh…”

He cursed himself, because he was usually suave and good with words, but he was a bumbling idiot right now!  Especially from the way Sam was lumbering over him, licking his lips and practically burning fire.  Dean could feel his heat…that, right there, was what he wanted.

So he reached out to where Sam’s arms were bare, caressed the outline and the muscle until they connected to his shoulders, his hands moving across planes of his back.  Dean craved that heat, and he cursed himself because in the vulnerability and the wrong of it all…his cock was pulsing and hard.  He locked his hands behind Sam’s back and hauled them together, finally feeling their chests press and stealing his flame.

Dean _knew_ he was in over his head; so he gave in.  He kissed his brother with a similar intensity and licked into Sam’s mouth.

The surprised groan from Sam made Dean cocky, he took another step to wrap a naked leg around Sam’s waist and he ground their hips together.

That friction, that sensation against their neglected dicks should have sent off warning-bells, but it served as a wake-up call that only one of them was naked.  And this having been Sam’s idea, it was ironic that he was the one wearing the denim keeping him away from a surprisingly willing partner.  One he hadn’t expected.  Now, the stakes rose and Sam _needed_ to make it perfect…

With a breathless gasp, Dean shamelessly rutting their hips together, Sam had to stop them.  Even though he fucking hated it, it had to be done.  He nipped Dean’s lip hard enough for his brother to snap out a harsh curse, and he began tugging off his jeans.  The question in both their minds made them fumble a bit, because it was hanging the air, yet still left unsaid.

_The_ question—

Because Sam had not, in his wildest dreams, anticipated a positive of a reaction.  To be honest, he was on a mission to self-destruct.  But Dean...wouldn’t let him.

Sam had expected to be pushed away in disgust, yelled at, the best case scenario was Dean telling him he was _really_ losing it—maybe, just maybe—giving into a pity-filled hug Sam would loathe every second of.   _If_ he could see past what Sam was doing.  This was…unprecedented.

And it was Dean who finally gave words to the elephant in the room.

“What is it you want, Sammy?  Tell me what will make it better.  Make you let go.  What’s gonna _finally_ give you some relief.”  Goddammit, if he wasn’t sincere, “I want this to be good for you. _I_ wanna be good for you.”

Damn, that last part...Dean pitched his voice sinfully low and sensual.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” Sam asked, finally getting his pants off with a grin.

“Doing what?” Dean countered with a raised brow, “You started it.”

“But you’re…you—” his eyes were bright, shining a color Dean analyzed because he’d never seen before.  The darkened hungry pupils, but this new bright shade of hazel-green dancing and alive, as he reached for the elastic of his boxers, “You’re finishing it.”  Sam finally said those words.  “Do you really want this?  Like I do?”

Dean tried to speak but it resulted in his jaw dropping because…his focus was along the line of Sam’s cock, straining through the boxers.

Yeah, of course, they’d seen each other naked before.  But that was quick flashes, in and out of showers or when they were changing.  Sam was thick and pulsing against the fabric with the head of his cock practically fighting to push out of the waistband… _goddamn_.  Oh, it wasn’t like this little pause went unnoticed, either.

Instead of pulling off the last piece of clothing keeping them apart, Sam wrapped a large hand over the bulge and moaned out, “Dean, please.  Tell me you want this like I do.”  The scrutiny of his gaze, it sizzled.

Now Dean, underneath where Sam hovered above him, carelessly jerked on his own cock, made him impossibly harder.  He whimpered, feeling another rush through his body, another gush of precum ooze from his slit, adding to the mess dribbling down his erection.  Still…he was too damn busy watching Sam in all his (almost) glory.

He was starved all too soon, like this craving had gone from zero to one-hundred the second Sam’s lips brushed Dean’s own, and now the tanned, muscled and lusting perfection in front of him…fuck, Dean didn’t know he needed it until he couldn’t live without it.

That was when he remembered there was a question, because Sam was frowning, his face falling a bit and looking shunned.  If he had _any_ idea…

“Fuck yeah, I want it Sammy,” Dean all but whispered, eyes still raking over every square inch of his baby brother, even as they lingered where Sam was still pleasuring himself.  “I-I want you.”

Dean slowly sat back up on the bed, sick of lying prone and cuffed his own fingers in the boxers, craning his neck upward toward Sam from where he was kneeling.  “Now you never answered me,” he reminded, slowly—tug by tug, pulling the boxers down past his rear.

Sam’s breath hitched as the elastic caught on his cock and he asked, “W-what is it I want?”  His rapt attention was on watching Dean’s hands move, his own dropping away as his dick finally sprang free, boxers now sliding down his thighs as Dean reached behind—taking advantage of his position to grab his ass—

And then Dean licked a stripe against the length of Sam’s cock from base to tip, confirming, “Yeah.  Tell me,” lewdly.

With a violent shudder, Sam shoved Dean back to the bed so he could kick the underwear off.  “You, Dean.  It’s not just want, it’s _need_ …for so long, and I-I couldn’t live a lie anymore and—”

“Shh, hey,” he urged, reaching out to grab Sam’s face again and press their foreheads together.  “Relax and listen, okay?”

To prove he would do just that, Sam allowed his weight to drop against Dean’s, humming happily and trying to muffle the groan of desire that arose from their cocks being one shift of their bodies away.  Just one scoot to Sam’s right and they’d be slotted against one another, rocking in a rhythm, precum mixing and gliding perfectly together…but he _had_ to be present, because listening to Dean?  It really was more important, despite the demands of his own body.

“You don’t have to live the lie, I’m right here with you,” Dean promised, kissing him soundly on the lips.  “Jesus, you’re gorgeous.  I know something made you break, but if it made you snap and come to me?  I’m gonna make everything better.  Hell, maybe I’m glad that you snapped and I’ll pick up the pieces.”  He went from sincere to filthy in the blink of an eye, “Now, I could suck you off, I could give you the best blowjob you’ve had in your entire goddamn life, but to me—that sounds like a band-aid if you’ve felt this way about me for a long time.”

The mischief in Dean’s voice mixed with the words and had Sam vibrating with anticipation, his mind was working a mile a minute and his mouth was dry.  He tried not to stumble over his words (or rut against Dean’s thigh) when he said, “It sounds like you have something else in mind?  Want you to make it better, and pick up those piece, so—”

Dean pushed him just far enough away to watch Sam’s expression when he asked, “Do you need to fuck me, Sammy?” a glint in his own green eyes.

Flames licked through Sam’s body, he pursed his lips and nodded, “Please, I need it.  You've got no idea how long I've wanted it, how long I've been dreaming about it, Dean.  I need it to be _real_ , if you do?”  Sneakily, because all these signs pointed to ‘yes,’ or so he hoped, Sam reached towards his pants.  They were still on the bed and he grabbed the small packet of lube tucked away in a pocket.

It was good, because Dean was too busy drowning in the intoxication that was Sam when he confessed, “Hell yeah, I want it,” before he wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck and kissed the living hell out of him.

The noise of surprise soon turned into a long drawl of exhilaration, their hips finally colliding and their cocks moving and sliding together.  It was overwhelming and Sam could get lost, he could cum just like this—from making out and humping like teenagers because this was _Dean_.  He actually felt the same, this taboo didn’t disgust him, they were in the same boat about to capsize in the waves of bliss and Sam was going to give it to him.

Luckily, he was good at multitasking—if only for the fact that when he was with Dean like this, his head was clear.  There were no hallucinations, it was just the two of them, and the amazing, filthy noise that Dean made against Sam’s cheek when he pushed in a lubricated finger.

It was followed by a deliberate, “Fuck,” and he was moving against the intrusion.  But…in a good way.  Except Sam hadn't seen _this_ coming—his blood was boiling—because he could easily push in a second finger and his brother was keening.

Dean needed more air than their kisses would allow, he was writhing, ordering, “Give me more, Sammy,” but he wouldn’t be pushed as he scissored him open.

Sam couldn’t help it, he was now seeing red in a flash that shocked him as he plunged and twisted the fingers in together, because Dean was his brother, he belonged by his side, no matter what.  Now things were changing and Sam _refused_ to share because Dean was everything he had in this world, that was it.  Maybe the protective nature set in too soon, because in the next breath, sliding in a third finger, Sam demanded, “Why are you so loose, Dean?  You always fed us that bullshit about being straight, but—” he didn’t know what to do, Sam  _knew_ it wasn’t his business, but his brother was the only thing keeping him holding on by a thread, and his head wasn't in the right place when he ordered, “Were you _literally_ just fucked?”

“Wow,” Dean snorted, and then gasped when Sam didn’t merely _graze_ his prostate he friggin made it a _target_ with his finger—nailing it on repeat—like he didn’t _want_ to know the answer.  “S-Sammy, I…” he huffed and puffed to regain his damn oxygen flow, and all too soon the fingers were gone.

He was still trying to recover, Sam hovering with—what was that, _betrayal_?—in his eyes when he ordered, “Tell me.  Who fucked you?  Did you wear a condom?  Did you—”

Dean was baffled and cautiously said, “This better be because you’re wondering if you can skip the condom part, you friggin weirdo…”

He was met with a nod.  Just a nod.  What the hell?  So Dean nodded back.

This…change, if you could call it that, left Dean so flabbergasted that he could only appreciate the wet, slick glaze of Sam coating his cock in lube for a grand total of five seconds.  Then, he was actually consumed by worry, because what if that prep hadn’t been enough?  The height, Sam’s shoes, everything was _too_ damn proportional and Dean reached out to grab Sam’s hips.

Because, yeah…the idea of nothing between them, of Sam’s cum filling his ass was another mind-blowing aphrodisiac but—

Dean grunted when the head of Sam’s cock breached his rim, no matter how slippery, those tight muscles just weren’t ready for what was in store.  Still, he could handle it.  He _needed_ to take care of Sam—that was what this was about more than anything—his own pleasure came second.  So Dean squeezed his eyes shut, his hands continued to hover rather than grab hold of Sam’s sharp hip bones.  

While the initial slide in was graceful, the last couple inches caused an explosive cry from Dean, because Sam just slammed inside him.

“Goddammit!” Dean’s eyes flew open, except they were foggy.  It took a second to realize that it wasn’t a fog, it was a thin glaze of tears.  When he aggressively blinked them away, Sam was staring upon him, lips parted, skin glistening with sweat, waiting to move.  Dean groaned out, “Jesus, warn a guy, first.”

“I need to know,” Sam said carefully.  “I shouldn’t, but I care _too_ goddamn _much_ ,” his hips began to rock, shallow thrusts in and out of Dean’s sensitive hole, but this was all right.

Dean sighed out into the sensation, being stuffed so full, knowing he'd never be pleasured like this, so utterly and completely, again.  “K-know what?”

His brow creased in frustration and he pressed again, “Why?  Why it was so easy to stretch you.  You gotta tell me, how often do you really bend over for guys?”

That was a jolt, similar to a bucket of ice-cold water and Dean would have shoved Sam’s shoulders, pushing him away, if he wouldn’t mourn the loss of his dick so much.  “The _fuck_?  Is that what you think of me?!”

“I don’t know what else to think!” Sam was done being demure, he snapped his hips forward, hoping to punch the ‘mouthy’ from Dean’s plan of attack.

“First of a-all,” Dean growled, not to be outdone, “None’a that would’a been your business!  Not until now!  All that matters is I’m clean!  And, just because I know y-you’ll stew, I happen to like getting  _myself off_ like that when there's time!  H-haven't been with a dude in years.  Yer just lucky I did half the work for you!   _Jesus_ , you brat,” he arched up off the bed, when there was a falter in Sam’s thrusts.  “I couldn’t have cheated on you before I even knew you…you know!  Liked me, l-like _that_.”

“I love you,” Sam instantly corrected him, reaching downward, now that he had a answer and felt like an ass.  “I’m obsessed with you,” he hauled Dean upward, into his lap and it gave way to kissing one another’s necks, shoulders—teeth sinking in and Dean’s nails raking down his Sam's back.  “I wouldn’t have reacted like a bitch if I didn’t.”

With his feet planted, he could still fuck up and into Dean with pure muscle, Dean hanging on and letting Sam know just how amazing it felt—loud enough that the entire motel probably knew, too.  It was carnal in the way that they both really _had_ cracked and were pushed far beyond their breaking points.  They turned to the other to remedy it.

Neither thought coming together would be the solution, but God, if it didn’t feel like it.

“K-kept this cock hidden from me, Sammy,” Dean taunted, brushing a piece of hair behind Sam's ear in a stolen moment, fucking himself up and down on Sam's cock.  His teeth sunk into Sam’s throat, enough to make him whimper and jerk up into Dean even deeper than before.  “You know damn well I ain't forgetting.  Gonna have to set my alarm early tomorrow, crawl into your bed and ride you ’til yer awake.   _Fuck_ , ‘m close.”

Sam was thrown for a loop, because previously he’d been doing all the work—spreading Dean’s legs and holding him down, then hauling him into his lap and pounding into him.  But now Dean had moved his legs, he’d spread them out to his advantage on the bed to really dig his heels in—to buck and grind every time Sam lifted or dropped him.

This wasn’t the plan, it was damn _overwhelming_ , and from the moment Sam had been all but ordered to slide inside his brother?

He’d promised himself to make sure Dean came first.

As a thank you, for being a safe place, for loving him, for literally taking care of him his entire life, even now when he shouldn’t have to.  Sam should have figured Dean would try something like this!  Because even as he sucked a row of hickeys against Sam’s neck, he could feel the wide grin, the bold and haughty move…

_Dammit_!

Sam retaliated.  He grabbed the back of Dean’s head, wrapped an arm around his waist and very, very friggin literally went up and over to body slam them both back down to the mattress.  Just so Sam could lay him out again, so, even when Dean wrapped his legs, Sam could grab his cock and jerk him off in time with their hips.

Instead of annoyance of utter shock, this seemed to raise Dean’s excitement exponentially.  His smirk was vibrant and, yes, right away there were heels digging into Sam’s back.  So Sam growled, switched up his arms to pin Dean down and fucked into him with something alive and ferocious all by itself.

“Woah!” Dean gasped and tossed his head back, no longer having a modicum of control, just as Sam had wished.  All he could do was babble.  As Sam slammed into him, knowing that Dean was right on the edge of his rope, he’d hear him sobbing, “Yeah—tear me apart, Sammy, need you to get that release, wanna be good for you—”

Those words brought him back to some of the very first things Dean had said when Sam finally had enough, and it was either the end of the road…or Dean saving him.  And Dean not only saved him, but cared enough, wanted to help enough, loved enough, that he wanted Sam to get everything he wanted.

Oh, God—

“Dean,” Sam suddenly paused and let go, demanding his brother’s attention, “You…you don’t think I’m using you, right?  You’re not letting me, and then that’s that, right?”

“Wha—?”  Dean’s eyes doubled in size, whimpering and slapping the outside edge of Sam’s rear, “No!  There is _no_ using!  C’mon, get back with it, I am so close!  We can talk after, but, _Jesus_ , you’re fucking me so goddamn good, you’re not allowed to quit, not now!”

With a sharp sigh, knowing that was Dean’s honesty, Sam could smile openly.  He was about to cum, too.  When he leaned forward and nibbled the shell of Dean’s ear, he asked, “Will you let me cum inside you?  God, I wanna stretch you open even more, Dean.  I’ll beg, if you want me to.”

Dean surprise him by stealing a kiss and ordering, “You fill me up, Sammy,” then hauled him in one more time to muffle the shout as he painted both their bodies with the physical proof of his release and pleasure.

Gasping for air, Dean was trying to collect himself on the mattress while squeezing and clenching around Sam’s cock, very, _very_ deliberately to make it good for him.  Sam knew it wouldn’t be long, he just didn’t know it would be mere seconds after Dean that he would follow.

Even though he knew his brother wasn’t a fan of the words, as he spilled inside Dean’s perfect, hot body Sam still needed to whisper, “God, I love you so much, Dean.”

Then, he almost did a double-take, because from within the cocoon Dean had draped his arms around Sam and already tangled their legs together, he whispered even softer, “I love you too, Sammy,”

Even though he didn’t ask, ‘what?’ because… _wow_ , Sam did kind of freeze up.  This meant something.  Something really damn heavy for Dean to actually say it, when he'd rather show it.  Regardless, the night had turned around.

Sam had spun out, a prisoner in his own head, contemplating what would happen if he just…wasn’t around anymore.  And his answer would lie with Dean’s reaction to his confession.  Now?  They were laying curled up with the words ‘I love you’ still a fresh reminder settled on Dean’s lips.

If he didn’t control himself, there was a damn good chance that he could breakdown because…how?  Just, _how_?

“Sammy?” Dean asked softly, reaching for a piece of random clothing that hadn’t made it to the floor to wipe them down.  He didn’t want to leave this position, he didn’t want to leave his brother, this new dawning between them...he figured there were things to discuss.  And for once Dean wasn’t afraid.    
  
The things worth fighting for he'd talk about, and that was Sammy.  Sam would _always_ be one of the exceptions.  “What was that thing about being used?”  Dean chuckled, “You almost got rid’a my hard-on when you mentioned that, dude.  Can you even imagine what a tragedy that would be during the best sex ever?”

“Best sex ever, huh?” Sam repeated with a grin, “I’m just really happy it wasn’t, uh, a tragedy from the beginning.  I was really taking a chance and I knew things could wind up going nuclear, but…that and you were all I had left.”

From where Sam laid sprawled out against Dean’s chest, he could hear his heart racing and a held breath.

But instead of an argument, instead of the normal intervention, Dean surprised Sam once more.

He kept an arm wrapped around Sam’s back, and also began running another hand through Sam’s hair.  Sam hummed happily, because it had been so long since anyone had done this for him, and his brother’s touch wasn’t just a feeling of safety, of love…it was home.

“Sure, if we’re talkin' Greek, we may be more tragic than comedic, but you know.  I never, ever would leave you in the dust.  I know you’ve been having a rough time, I’ve been too, but mine’s chump change compared to yours.  Promise me you ain’t checking out.  I’m _never_ gonna leave you.  Sure, I wasn’t expecting it,” Dean chuckled, watching his brother ride on his chest like a wave.  “But…I’m really glad it happened.  Maybe I had been thinking about it.  But I wasn’t as close to the final straw as you were.”

Dean tightened his grip on Sam with a sigh, “I wished…I wished I could’ve seen it.  Done something about it sooner.  But I wouldn’t have done _this_ —ya know?  So maybe it took you going to the edge, so close to breaking, just to bring us together.  Is that horrible?  Am I a shitty person?”

“No, you’re not,” Sam was quickly and sincerely interjecting.  “Tonight'll help me press on.  And now you kind of know when and how to connect the dots.”  He pursed his lips, and just decided to come out and say it.  “You know what to do, I guess.”

There was an elongated pause before Dean spoke up being…well, _Dean_.  “What about others?  We still in the game of bars and picking up chicks, or—”

Sam had to roll around a little, using that innate dominance he naturally held over Dean and saw his brother shy away.  “Hey.  I listened to you, you listen to me.  You’re the _only one_.  Period.  I want you, and only you.  Is that a problem?”

Dean snorted, glancing away for a quick moment before he turned back and nodded, “Yeah.  We can do this.  I mean, I _want_ to do this.  I just hope that it will be,” his voice was shy, they were both acting out of character, this was all new territory.

Taking the reins, Sam pulled them back into something more comfortable and tried to boost Dean’s morale by finally admitting, “You’re the only reason I’m still alive tonight, Dean.  So…even though I’m sure you’re beating yourself up about random things, remember, this could’ve gone different.  And you mean the world to me  Thank you.”

“No…”  There was more conviction behind this word, “Thank you, Sammy.  We’re about to crank things up, you know?  I’m gonna take care of you, we’re gonna kick this whole new shitfest-Leviathan-lookalikes in the ass, and we’re gonna spend nights just like this.”

Sam raised a happy and amused brow, “Covered in sex after equally awesome fucking?”

“Nah, although, I wouldn’t complain about that all the time,” Dean winked lavishly, “Making love would be nice, bitch.  What I meant was, sleeping together, being close to each other, I know it helps keeping the nightmares at bay.  The couple’a times we had to share beds when I got out of Hell, it did.  Maybe that’ll help you.  I promise.”

Sam was speechless.  Totally and utterly speechless.

Not merely because Dean didn’t do ‘chit-chat,’ but because he was right.  Both their lives weren’t in great places, but if they put stock and trust in one another?  Explored this new kind of relationship?  Well, they were already each other’s rock.  This time, it _would_ be enough to keep them together.

“Everything I said... I meant it,” Sam urged, “I have more to say but…we should probably get to sleep.  Maybe I’ll throw in another present in the morning, like _you_ wanted,” he teased, leaving a lingering kiss on Dean’s lips.

“Not if I beat ya there,” Dean kissed him once more with a lopsided grin.  “Sweet dreams, Sammy.  Elbow me if I snore too loud and shove me if you’re more comfortable a different way.”

“Heh,” he shook his head, “This is _already_ great.  Good night, jerk.”

“Bitch…” it sounded far away, and Sam didn’t blame him.

Sam wasn’t _exactly_ tender or handled things as though they were fragile when it came to their first time.  But it didn’t seem like Dean minded at all.  The future was scary, now that Sam actually had one.  Wow.  Dean surprised him every single day with every challenge they faced together, and each time they were alone in something they broke all kinds of records.  Sam was glad he chose life that night, just to be with Dean.  Well, he was glad _Dean_ chose him tonight, so Sam could choose life.

He couldn’t help but steal a glance when Dean had passed out, his breathing softly evening out and Sam could tell by his easy posture he was happy too.  It wasn’t as though Sam had any times in the future where he was planning on checking out, but it sure looked like he had someone to hold him accountable.  To love him.

And, fuck, Sam wanted to do everything in his power to repay the favor.  And he would, he realized with a grin, probably in the morning…


End file.
